


Difficult Duty

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 10:17:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: Doyle pre-CI5





	Difficult Duty

 

Doyle dropped tiredly behind the steering wheel of his car. He placed the notebook with all the evidence and information he’d painstakingly collected carefully in the glove box. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the seat. 

He could still hear his co-worker’s words and threats winding themselves through his thoughts, adding more fuel to the headache he was rapidly developing: _snitch, traitor, turn-coat, grass._ All true, from their perspective. But as much as their words stung, he could live with their scorn. It was the rebuke from his governor that upset him more. Yes, it was true he’d always had a problem with authority. He smiled to himself as he thought of the trouble he'd caused with his teachers and his parents. But he felt a moral obligation to rebel against those who unfairly used their positions of power for their own personal gain.

More words echoed in his mind: _pompous, snooty, haughty_ ; but this wasn’t about his ego. This was about doing what was right, about doing the job he’d been hired to do, about not abusing the trust that had been given into his hands.

And it wasn’t the first time he’d been labeled an idealist. Maybe he _was_ naive to think that anything he did would make a bit of difference. He shivered despite the heat in the closed up car. It wasn’t the threats of retaliation that frightened him. No. He’d laughed those off. What scared him was the thought that whatever he did, it wouldn’t matter, wouldn't change a thing.

He rolled down the windows and started the car. He cursed the heat that caused the sweat to run down his back, staining the uncomfortable white shirt and the waistband of his black wool trousers. He loosened his tie. The suit was almost harder to bear than his duty. And it was his duty. He took strength from that thought. Yes. It was his duty to report what he’d seen and do whatever it took to correct the problem, no matter the cost to himself. And the ones he was taking down? Former friends, colleagues and partners? Well, they had brought this on themselves, hadn’t they? They’d made their choices. But bloody hell, there was no way _he_ had to follow along.

He pulled into a parking space in front of a nondescript brick building. Getting out of the vehicle he re-tucked his shirt into his trousers and straightened his tie. He bent down to grab his notebook from the glove box. He felt a pang of regret as he pictured the faces of the men who’s careers and lives he was about to destroy. Wishing there was some other way to do this, he reminded himself of the lives that he might be saving by taking this step. There was no choice. Not for him.

Clutching his notes firmly, he stepped through a door that was in need of a good cleaning and presented himself to the security guard.

“May I help you, sir?” A cautious disinterest radiated from the good-looking, dark-haired man behind the desk.

“Detective Constable Raymond Doyle of the Metropolitan Police.” He steeled himself and stood up straighter, his grip on the notebook he held behind his back tightened. “I have some information for Mister George Cowley.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2013 for a Tea and Swiss Roll Challenge prompts of 'ego', 'rebel' and the included photo.  
> Posted now in attempt to archive earlier works.


End file.
